


those summer nights

by call_me_steve



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (both tags are needed, Cute Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson is Batman, Fireworks, Fluff, Gen, Glow-sticks, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Implied Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake - Freeform, Past Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Slight Hurt/Comfort, Stephanie Brown is AWESOME OKAY, Tim Drake-centric, adorable Damian Wayne, dickbats era, fkkajg, just some good feels :)), timmys adorable too, yes they are)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_me_steve/pseuds/call_me_steve
Summary: The sun is only just setting when Dick tells Damian and Tim to get in the car. He drives them to go see some fireworks, to hang out with Stephanie, and to crack some glow-sticks.It's the best Tuesday night that Tim's ever had.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 180





	those summer nights

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me why they're not at the penthouse, and why they're at the manor. i do not know. *screams* 
> 
> check out my tumblr: [potato-reblob](https://potato-reblob.tumblr.com/)

The sun is only just setting when Dick tells Damian and Tim to get in the car.

“There’s no patrol tonight,” he explains, while Damian quickly dissolves into a fit. “Kate’s taking over Gotham for the time being, so don’t worry about it.” 

Tim’s perfectly okay with that. It’s deep into the summer months, and while Gotham doesn’t do blue skies and blinding sun, it _does_ get miserably hot nonetheless. Their vigilante costumes don’t do the blazing heat justice, even if they _are_ lighter than their winter and fall costumes- courtesy of Alfred. Right now, it’s a blessing not to be out in a skin-tight _furnace._ The very first time that Tim ever ventured out in the Robin costume during the summer, he’d immediately realized just _why_ Dick had gone with those short-shorts. 

Of course, Tim wouldn’t ever be caught _dead_ wearing them, but. The _idea_ was always nice. 

Even now, Tim’s in the lightest clothes he owns. Some shorts and a very loose tank top on his body, along with a hoodie- he’d been urged to bring one by Dick, because ‘it gets _cold_ at night, Timmy!’- thrown haphazardly into the backseat of Dick’s car. The only thing he regrets wearing is his socks, because he’d opted to throw on his converse instead of sandals. 

Somehow, even with Damian’s terrible mood, Tim gets into the passenger seat without any bloodshed. Damian seems content enough to glare out the window of the backseat, pulling his knees up to his chest. It makes him look like a tiny, dangerous _porcupine._

Tim shivers at the thought. 

As much as Damian’s aloofness should’ve set Tim off, he’s not that surprised. Besides his tantrum moments before being pushed out the door, he’s been dragging- almost like he’s miserable, or completely- well- _sad._ Tim finds it easier just to say that he’s been out of it, lately, since Tim’s not very pro-Damian most of the time. The less that he has to _think_ about Damian, the more that he finds he has time to feel something other than miserable himself.

It _works,_ too.

Once Dick slides into the driver’s seat- he’s got on almost the same thing as Tim, but he’s actually _wearing_ his hoodie, (the madman), and had elected to go out in slides- they’re off. At first, they head towards Gotham, before Dick takes a left turn _away_ from the city. He dials up the radio, letting some obnoxious pop song flood the car, and starts singing loud enough for all three of them. 

Tim- because moody, silent teenager is his shtick- plugs in his headphones and starts playing his own playlist. He turns to look out the window, just like Damian, even though the volume of his music is low enough for him to still focus on Dick. It’s not like his act is really _hurting_ anyone- he pays Dick enough attention, and he more than deserves to act upset. 

Bruce is dead- (not dead, just gone, gone somewhere, gone where?)- and Tim isn’t Robin anymore- (he understands why, but why _can’t_ he be upset over it?).

Seriously, his whole _life_ is falling apart. 

But, it’s _hard_ to feel like his life is falling apart, when he’s just Timothy Drake and he’s sitting beside Dick, who’s doing his best to make a fool out of himself so that Tim will crack a smile, and so that Damian will make his obnoxious _tt_ sound that Dick finds so endearing. It’s hard to feel like life is horrible, when they’re all going to who-knows-where, and it’s just them against the world again.

The thought of them going to who-knows-where makes Tim want to ask _where_ who-knows-where even is. Before he can, Dick takes a turn off of the main road and onto a far more hazardous path. It’s more rocks and dirt than road, and looks somewhat unused and unkept. The car’s headlights shine on the forest around them, casting spooky shadows everywhere, as the car creeps up a subtle incline. 

Tim stays silent, suddenly entranced by their surroundings. 

Dick drives for a handful of minutes more, before pulling up beside a beat-up Jeep that Tim recognizes as Steph’s mother’s. As Dick dials the radio back down, Tim peers through his window and into Steph’s. She’s leaning back in the driver’s seat, feet kicked up on the dash with the interior lights shining down on her. Her phone is on, in front of her face, as she scrolls through it.

She looks bored, for all of a second, before she notices that Dick’s parked beside her.

Steph waves and clicks off her phone, abruptly shutting off her car and throwing open her door. It’s close enough to Tim’s that he can’t get out anymore, unless she shuts it a little bit more. For a moment, it doesn’t seem like she’s going to. She taps on Tim’s window and motions for him to push it down, grinning at him. 

Tim shoots back a nasty face and sticks out his tongue, smiling back when she snaps her door closed. He pushes his open and- softly- hits Steph with it, who in turn screeches at him. Once Tim scrambles out of the small crack he’s made, she advances on him. 

“Oh- you _little-_!” 

Dick only laughs, getting out of the car far easier than Tim had. As Steph lands a lucky slap to the back of Tim’s head, Dick moves back to pull open Damian’s door- (child locks are a curse to mankind, Tim _swears_ it). Tim doesn’t hear what Dick tells him, because Steph suddenly wraps Tim into a hug.

“I missed you, Tim,” she says, once she pulls back. It’s oddly serious, but the effect is ruined when she huffs and pulls her hair up into a messy bun. “Stupid _hair._ ” 

Like Tim, she had the idea to dress light. Her jean shorts are shorter than Tim’s, and her spaghetti-strap top is far more light than his tank top. On her feet are sandals, and wrapped around her waist is a flannel that Tim bets is supposed to serve as her sweatshirt. 

“I missed you, too,” Tim replies, thankful that the car’s light isn’t bright enough to show his cheeks. They _feel_ hot, but there’s no telling how red they really are. The last time he’d seen Steph was probably on patrol- what with her actually attending school, unlike Tim. Plus, while- until recently- Tim lived in the manor, Steph lives out in Gotham with her mom. “It’s been a while since we talked without-” 

Instead of saying anything aloud, he just gestures to his face, implying the _masks_ part of his sentence. 

Behind them, Dick pulls open his trunk and nearly falls into it, pulling out some kind of sketchy looking backpack. “Do you know what we’re here for?” Tim asks. 

Steph just grins at him, and holds a finger up to her lips. She gives a minute nod over to Damian, small enough that Tim gathers that this whole excursion is to try and lift Damian’s mood- or maybe Tim’s mood, too. “It’ll be fun,” she assures, clapping him on the shoulder. Instead of pulling back, she lets her arm remain there, so for the sake of feeling less awkward, Tim wraps an arm around Steph’s waist. 

God, his face must look like it’s on _fire_ now. 

Finally, Dick snaps the trunk closed. “Ready, gang?” he asks, stupidly enough that Tim can’t help but flash him a smile. 

Steph leads Tim to a small path cleared between the trees, as Dick settles his hand on the small of Damian’s back and urges him to follow. Tim’s more focused on the feel of Steph’s skin against his than on his brothers, though, so he doesn’t catch Damian’s tiny mutter and Dick’s soft words of comfort. 

“You’re really not going to tell me what’s going on?” he half-whines, laughing when Steph pushes him in response. For a moment, his heart falls at the loss of contact, but Steph ducks back to his side, looping his arm around her shoulders. 

Instead of _falling,_ his heart _falters_ and skips a few beats. 

Oh boy.

She replies, face never losing that smile, “You’ll find out soon enough, _weather boy._ ” 

Tim can’t help but groan, and shove her in turn.

When they return to walking, they fall into an easy silence. Being with Steph is _easy._ Being with Steph makes Tim forget all of those bad things, just like being with Dick. He loves her, he does- loves her platonically, at least, and _likes_ her romantically enough. They’d tried dating, before, but then she’d ended up dying sometime after her brief stint as Robin, and when she came back, they’d decided that it was for the best if they took a break. She needed time to come to terms with what happened with her, without having to worry about their relationship.

They’re nothing more than teenagers, anyway. Tim knows that if they’re going to get back together- and it’s times like these when it feels like they just might- they’ll get back together. If they don’t, that’s okay, too. 

He’ll take it as it comes. Right now, being with Steph here- It feels like more than enough to tide him over.

They take one more step forward, and Tim realizes that the entire _scenery_ has changed. Gone are the tall trees that loom over them, the forest now resting behind them. Before them are rolling fields, grass tall enough to tickle his ankles- where his socks fail to reach- and stars shining high above them, far brighter than anything Gotham has to offer. It feels like it spans on for _forever,_ and every bone in Tim’s body says, _go run, go run, go_ run.

“Holy shit, Batman” he breathes out, and Steph lets out a cackle. 

“You’re starting to sound like _me,_ there, Timbo,” Dick says, coming up from behind them. Tim hazards a look back, to see Damian, whose eyes are wide and turned up towards the sky, mouth slightly open in awe. Steph slinks back an inch to let Dick assume her place, hand coming up to rest on Tim’s shoulder. “Pretty, huh?” 

Pretty doesn’t _begin_ to explain it. 

Instead of saying that, Tim looks up at his brother and says, “It’s not Gotham, that’s for sure.” 

Dick beams back. 

After a few moments, he draws away, to peer down at his phone. “We’ve got a couple minutes to spare,” he says, “so would anyone care for some snacks?” 

“Did you bring a blanket?” Steph asks instead, reaching for his bag. She pulls it off of Dick’s back and unzips it, quickly rifling through its contents. “And Doritos, obviously, but I figured you brought them, or I’d have to hang you for crimes against humanity.” 

“I brought neither,” Dick says, dejectedly. 

Steph hands back the bag and gives Dick a mean face, shaking her fist before her in an impersonation of a classic Gotham crook. “Curse you, Batman!” 

“ _But,_ ” Dick suddenly says, “I brought along something a _lot_ better than Doritos and a blanket, so you’ll just have to wait until-” 

It’s a quick thing, what happens next. Dick’s sentence is torn apart by a horribly loud _BOOM!_ , and suddenly, the sky fills with color. Every instinct that Tim has, every bone in his body, screams at him to take off and find shelter, but his brain is smarter and his eyes are faster. He catches streaks of red as they sprinkle the sky and fizz out soundlessly, and he thinks, _fireworks._

Fireworks-!

For about ten seconds, it’s beautiful and majestic, and Tim thinks that this might just be one of the best nights of his life- And, somehow, Damian ruins it, by doing nothing more than drawing in a far-too sharp breath and whispering, “What the hell was _that?_ ” 

Tim turns back as a second one booms above- a fine, gold color that shatters into two- and catches Damian mid-flinch. His knees are slightly bent, like he’d been about to take off, and his hands hover inches from clapping over his ears. His eyes- just as wide as they had been, when focused up at the stars- bore straight into Dick’s, something like- like _terror_ flooding through the swirling greens of his irises.

“They’re _fireworks,_ Lil’ D!” Dick beams, without a single hint of mock or judgement in his tone. A third one goes off- green, going off like _pop, pop, pop!-_ and Dick moves forward to pull Damian up in his arms, settling him onto his hip. Gently, he holds Damian’s hands from his ears, and tells him to direct his gaze for the sky. “They can’t hurt you, okay? They’re _fun_ things- see?” 

Red and gold flash in the sky at the same time, and the fireworks get faster and brighter and the world gets a little better. By the time a handful go off, Damian’s hands rest on Dick’s shoulders of his own accord, and his face is twisted up into this weird, little half-smile. 

The fireworks reflect in his eyes, and for a moment, Tim finds himself speechless. 

Then, Steph bops his hip with hers, and tells him to get his head out of the clouds. “Isn’t it so _pretty?_ I haven’t seen fireworks in so _long._ ” 

Tim can’t find the words to express _what’s_ so pretty, right now, because Steph has his full attention all over again. Each time a firework pops in the sky, it looks like it’s sprinkling down from the heavens and straight onto her, highlighting her blonde hair with whatever color it’d painted the sky with. She’s grinning so wide, that Tim feels like he’s stupid for _not_ smiling all toothy-like.

 _Pop!_ cries the sky, as it flashes with color. _Boom! Boom! Pop!_

 _Thump-thump,_ sings his heart, like a beating drum. _Thump-- thump-thump._

It’s _perfect-_ The _world_ is perfect. 

And then something settles on Tim’s head, and his view of the sky is obscured by a neon-pink line. He becomes all-too aware of Damian asking, again, “What is _that?_ ”, and of the sound of snapping and crackling _glow-sticks._

He reaches up for his pink halo, and plops it onto Steph’s head, watching as her nose scrunches up. When he turns back to Dick, he’s awarded with the sight of his older brother, littered with blues and yellows and greens, all over his arms and his neck and his head. He’s sitting on the ground, Damian crouched before him and watching him with interest, as he pops the sticks in place with each other to make necklaces and bracelets. 

“Timmy, come here,” he orders, and Tim does so, sticking out his wrist so Dick can snap another pink glow-stick onto it. He does the same to Steph- though her’s is a purple color, which makes her cheer- before he passes the lot of sticks over to Steph to crack to life. He turns to Damian and claps a green bracelet onto his wrist. 

“ _These_ are glow-sticks,” he explains, once Damian prompts him again. “They’re full of chemicals that glow- but they work better in the dark, like right now.” Dick settles a few sticks into Damian’s hands. “Don’t crack them too hard, or you’ll get the chemicals all over you. I don’t think they’re very safe for skin contact.” 

“And you just let _children_ have these, then?” Damian asks, but looks content enough as he wiggles them to life. Once he’s done with a yellow one, he clips it together with a pink one, and then settles it on Dick’s head. 

“ _I_ thought you weren’t a kid!” Steph throws in, as she steps forward, and places a full purple halo on Damian’s hair. She bops his nose, and somehow withdraws unscathed. “See, Dami? You’re an _angel!_ ” 

In response- and _very_ angelically, might Tim add- Damian launches to his feet and starts after Steph. Steph launches herself out of the way, nearly tripping over her flip-flops, so she pries them off when she’s far away enough, and chucks them back at Damian. They miss wildly, one slapping Tim in the face and the other clipping Dick’s shoulder. 

As they rush around- _laughing,_ actually _laughing,_ the both of them- Dick returns to Tim’s side, just as the finale starts up in the sky. 

“How’s _this_ for a Tuesday night?” he asks. 

Tim leans his head on Dick’s arm, too short to really reach his shoulder, and says, “I think it’s the best Tuesday night I’ve ever had.” 

Dick wraps an arm around Tim. “Good,” he says. “That’s really good.” 

They watch the world turn before them, and all is well.

**Author's Note:**

> if u cannot tell, i am in love with stephanie brown. thank u, next.
> 
> also, the only reason why jason isn't in this is because i am a fool. originally, he was supposed to ride up late on his motorcycle, but i could not fit it because the ending was already awkward. BUT i MISS him and i love him and those are the facts.
> 
> also fact. dc is a COWARD. let them BOND.


End file.
